


Of Dragon and Daedra

by Blakdawn



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 22:23:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1566167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blakdawn/pseuds/Blakdawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Thalmor think we are cowed, broken, defeated. Let them. We know that we are the Sons of Ysgramor and that we will never surrender.<br/>Currently just a report from FF.net, but I will rewrite when I get the chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue 'The Darkness Encompassing'

## prologue 'the darkness encompassing'

The leather helmet is light in my hands, runes on the surface glow and I can feel the power rippling around it. Arrayed around me The Group watch in interest 

"well?" said Jonil "is it ready?" 

"perhaps" I reply, the culmination of months of preparation, of stealth and of danger, yet despite that, despite the days I had driven my self to exhaustion creating the spells, I was no longer sure, it was an...odd feeling, perhaps brought on by the enormity of what was going to happen. I sat down and the manacles clasped around my arms and legs and Gaeni looped a strip of leather around my eyes, blinding me to the world, and to them, slowly I lifted the helm above my head. 

OrinamisEbinsLeapJanbirVeatorOrrginalmz the words flashed through my head, a jumbled assortment of memories to go with them, but it is to late, I place the helm on my head and

In the shadows, closely watching, desperately hearing I knew all, Alduin was to be tricked, my lord, glorious ascender, was not to be broken, not before betrayer, whisperer of dishonour, was dead. coldly watch, important as passages north, to listen, to understand, Alduin my lord, uniform magnificence would take his place. Mortal tricks, shallow and low, would not stop Alduin, my lord, terrible vengeance.


	2. Chapter One 'Know without remembering'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Thalmor think we are cowed, broken, defeated. Let them. We know that we are the Sons of Ysgramor and that we will never surrender.

Cold, Dark, Moving. Three words flashed through my mind without permission, chased on their way by the multitude of questions that unceremoniously rushed to the front of my head

Where am I?

What am I doing here?

Who am I?

What's going to to happen?

How did I get here?

All I remember before waking up is, leather? A group? Nothing, the memories dance out of my reach, and like so many things the harder I try to remember the faster they slip away, replaced by only one thought

_Majolir_

A place? A name? It feels unfamiliar, cold, but it is incessant, hammering away, scouring even the half forgotten memories, it's almost physically painful, I groaned out loud, so they hadn't gagged me, good.

My yes flicker open, and then close again, the brightness was overwhelming, a combination of my lack of exposure, and what was suspiciously like snow reflecting the light.

_Skyrim_

The thought is not my own, but it is not alien, a comforting, and yet uncomfortable thought, then I listened to the word Skyrim, there is something, something dangerous to these thoughts, plans and intrigue, and then in an instant it's gone again. Hesitantly I crack open my left eye again, the light was less blinding this time and I risk opening both eyes, taking in my situation.

I was in a cart, with three others, all men, one of the left

_throw off the cart_

one in front

_knee to the balls_

and one to his left, my right

_charge, knock both off, grab rear guard, pull off, on horse, escape_

I paused, I hadn't even realized that half of my thoughts weren't my own and what I thought, apparently completely obviously, was terrifying, I shivered, which must have attracted the attention of the man in front of me, who looked at me curiously.

“hey, you, you're finally awake” his voice was rough, in keeping with the Nord tradition he was huge, I was a

_Breton_

which meant that the height difference was much bigger than it would have been...

shit that voice interrupted me again and I didn't even realize it.

I then noticed that he was staring much more intently, and I knew I had been silent for too long, I opened my mouth to speak, to say something, anything, but nothing came out, not even the other voice, so I settled for a quick nod, it looked like that was the signal he needed to continue.

“you were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there” he glanced across at the man on the same bench, who while still bearing a Nord's traditional mass and height seemed to be trying to make himself as small as possible.

_Nord's should be warrior's, not thieves_

I opened my mouth to refute him, I hadn't walked into the ambush I had...what had I done? The story seemed wrong somehow, I knew in my heart that wasn't how I had been captured, but I didn't know how to put it, the man, this Nord, seemed so confident I went with him, with a shrug.

“you have a name, stranger?” 

I opened my mouth, and that name

_Majolir_

was all that came to me, like a waterfall crushing me until I surrendered.

“Majolir” he nodded, almost like he expected it.

_didn't he?_

“Ralof” he offered in return, I managed a quick quirk of my lips in response.

A small lull gave the thief a change to talk “damn you storm-cloaks, Skyrim was fine until you came along, empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you I could have stolen that horse and been half way to Hamerfell” he then turned his attention from Ralof to me “you there”

“Majolir” I spoke my name, my name, again.

he ignored me and continued as though I hadn't spoken “you and me, we shouldn't be here, it's these storm-cloaks the empire wants”

“we're all brothers...and sister, in binds now thief” he glanced at me for a second as he said sister, like I should know something.

“shut up back there” my gaze snapped to the soldier driving he wagon, he had evidently grown tired of our bickering, so we settled down into silence, I cast my eyes around, the man next to me was staring into the trees that lined the road, which come to think about it, were growing sparser, and now that Ralof and the thief were not talking I could hear the sounds of a town. 

After a small reverie the thief glanced at the man next to me and said “what's up with him?”

“watch your tongue, you're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king” Ulfric, that name was familiar, somehow, though I didn't know why

_no, you shouldn't_

that explained...wait that bloody voice, where was it coming from, and how did it know these things?

I returned my attention back to reality, just in time to see the thief pale further, if such a thing was possible.

“Ulfric, Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion, but if they captured you... oh gods where are they taking us?”

“I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits” Ralof spoke in a quiet tone.

By now the thief was in a panic “no, this can't be happening, this isn't happening”

“hey what village are you from?” Ralof directed his question to the horse thief, who looked back at him for a moment before responding.

“why do you care?” 

“a Nord's last thoughts should be of home”

“Rorikstead, I'm...I'm from Rorikstead”

“General Tullius, Sir” an imperial voice interrupted us, and I realized to my dismay that I been so caught up thinking and listening that I didn't know we were practically in a town “the headsman is waiting” headsman, they were going to execute us...me! 

“Good let's get this over with” another voice answered the first.

as we entered the town the horse thief began muttering to himself “Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh, Divines please help me”

_fool, they would not save their own_

“look at him, General Tullius, the military governor, and it looks like the Thalmor are with him, damn elves” General Tullius at least I could see, the General's armour is always easy to spot, and presumably the Thalmor was the other figure of horseback, though I could only see their back, “I bet they had something to do with this”

_no_

Ralof looked around and took in the village “this is Helgen, I used to be sweet on a girl from here, I wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with Juniper berries” It was obvious that he was trying to distract himself from what was to come “funny, when I was a boy, imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe”

as we pulled into a small open area in front of one of the aforementioned towers, a young voice spoke behind me “who are they daddy? Where are they going?” these were both excellent questions, ones I had not answered myself.

“let's go inside”

“why, I wanna watch the soldiers” 

“inside the house, now” 

“Yes, papa” the child must have gone inside, based on the sound of the door slamming shut.

We came to a stop and the thief looked around, fearful “why are we stopping?”

“why do you think? end of the line” He looked back at me “let's go, shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us” 

“no wait we're not rebels” the horse thief a desperate, I tensed slightly, even as I got up, desperate men are often the most dangerous.

“face you death with some courage thief” Ralof, who was behind me, sounded disparaging and annoyed, in front of us, were two legionnaires, one who seemed to be of a higher rank, a woman, she glanced at all of us, until she got to me, her eyes widened and then narrowed, her hand moved to her sword, internally I frowned, I had no idea who this woman was, nor why she had reacted that way to me, but not to Ulfric of Ralof, perhaps I had done something to her in the past. I was silent for a second waiting for the voice, which may have known, to break in, yet it did not. 

“you've got to tell them. We work with you! this is a mistake” I wasn't sure who the horse thief as talking to, but it wasn't me, so I ignored him.

“step toward the block when we call your name” as did the woman “one at a time” 

“empire loves their damn lists” Ralof sounded bitter.

“Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm” the soldier next to the woman marked something on his list as he called out the first name, Ulfric who was in front of me and therefore blocking my view moved towards the block, he gait was unbroken, but with an aura of the inevitable.

“it has been an honour, Jarl Ulfric” Ralof said as he walked, Ulfric paused slightly and nodded his head before continuing.

“Ralof of Riverwood” Ralof walked without complaint.

“Lokir of Rorikstead” the horse thief, now known as Lokir tensed and so did I, he was going to do something, run maybe? Or try to fight. He walked forward a few steps.

“no, I'm not a rebel, you can't do this” then he ran, as fast as his bound hands allowed.

“halt” the woman called after him, but she had already raised her hand for the archers to fire, betraying her thoughts, when he didn't stop he slashed her hand down and called out “archers” 

without fuss three archers stationed along the road raised their bows and fired, three arrows protruded form his back when he fell, which was not unexpected, this far out without as many bandits, training and drills were about all they could do. 

Th woman then turned her attention back to me “anyone else feel like running” only silence greeted her, and she grinned slightly. Her companion however was already back to his list.

“wait, you there” he looked at me “step forward” I took a few steps forward, until I was just outside the range of an imperial word swung with a step forward “who are you?”

“Majolir” he wrote something down presumably my name race and defining characteristics.

“getting away from the intrigue of court Breton? You picked a bad time to come to Skyrim.” he turned to the woman “Captain what should we do? She's not on the list”

“forget the list, she goes to the block, first”

“by your orders captain. I'm sorry, I'll make sure your remains go to High Rock. Follow the captain prisoner” So I walked slowly, steadily to my death.

Once all the prisoners were arrayed around the block General Tullius stepped forward, he looked at me for a few seconds, confusion evident on his face, before turning to Ulfric.

“Ulfric Stormcloak, some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn't use a power like the voice to murder his king and usurp his throne” the voice, what was that, Nord magic?

_No_

“you started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos and now the empire is going to put you down and restore the peace” then something, a sound unlike anything I had every heard before, everyone, even the horses were quiet and still.

“what was that?” one of the soldiers asked, fear evident in his voice.

“It's nothing, carry on” the general's answer was to quick for my liking.

“yes, general Tullius” the woman from before answered him and...well it might technically have been a smile, but it was the smile of a dog before it pulled down a fox and hate was clear in her eyes “give them their last rites” a priestess stepped forward and raised her hands skyward.

“as we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessing of the eight divines upon you...” she was cut off when a prisoner, one standing next to me, walked forward.

“for the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with”

“as you wish” she lowered her hands and stepped back.

“come on. I haven't got all morning” the legionary captain, spared me a single glance and then pushed the Nord to his knees, the executioner holding a massive axe stepped forward and she pushed his head against the block.

“my ancestors are smiling at me, imperials, can you say the same?” behind him the executioner brought his axe down with a thud and just like that the nameless Nord was dead, the legionary captain pushed his body off the block with her foot.

“you imperial bastards” a woman cried out behind me, wife perhaps?

“justice” a man said on my other side.

“death to the storm-cloak's” an imperial answered them.

“as fearless in death as he was in life” Ralof said softly.

“next the Breton!” her eyes gleamed, frowning General Tullius stepped forward and opened his mouth to say something, when that...whatever it was roared again, louder this time, closer, all of us looked around for the source, I also spotted an Altmer, perhaps the Thalmor, make her way over to Tullius and whisper something to him, he looked like he was going to complain before acquiescing and moving away from our little party.

“there it is again, did you hear that?” one of the Nords said in awe.

“I said next prisoner” the woman was obviously not in the mood for slowness, she wanted me dead, for whatever reason that I couldn't discern. So I moved toward the block.

“you'll pay for what you did to my beloved” she whispered to me, quietly enough that I was sure only I could hear her.

“what d..” she silenced me by pushing me to my knees and forcing my head on the block, know all I could see was the tower and executioner, the n something caught in the corner of my eye, even as the executioner raised his axe. It roared and landed on the tower.

“what in oblivion is that?” shock forced the words from an imperials lips.

it was a 

_Dragon_


End file.
